Fire
by Michael Donovan
Summary: Short piece on Spike and Willow, just for a kick.


FIRE

Written by Michael K. Donovan 

mike@vmp-canada.com 

Disclaimer: Buffy the Vampire Slayer and all the characters that appear on the show are the exclusive property of Joss Whedon, the WB and Mutant Enemy, Inc. 

*** 

Spike whirled around swiftly, the length of his black leather coat flaring like a cape. Willow instinctively shrank back. 

"Now you listen here, Red." The vampire snapped, pointing a steady finger angrily in her direction, "I only let you go before because of this thing in my head. If it weren't for that, you'd be pushin' up daisies!" 

She said nothing, only watched him with wide, glistening brown eyes. 

"All this mumbo-jumbo garbage puts the bleedin' wind up my back!" he picked up one of her spell books as he continued ranting, more to the empty room than to her now, "Dru was always takin' up some mystical nonsense or other, damn near drove me nuts more than once, let me tell you. But God didn't we have fire together." 

Willow slipped her feet down over the edge of her bed and continued watching him. Spike was different lately. Maybe it was the implant, but Willow suspected it was something else. Separated from Dru, he seemed to have floundered and lost himself. How else would he have ended up with a mega-bimbo like Harmony? It was all kind of sad really. 

"I remember how she used to eat." Spike carried on wistfully, oblivious to her fading fear of him, "Just like a dainty little princess and then sometimes like a starving, greedy street kid. She could be such a glutton sometimes-" He paused looking down at Willow with a scowl on his face. 

"What?" he demanded, "What's that look for?!" 

"Look?" Willow quickly tried to make her face blank, "What look? I was just listening." 

"Bloody Hell you were." He growled, "I've seen that look before. You feel SORRY for me, don't you? Admit it!" 

"Well," she shrugged helplessly, "It is kind of sad. But in a nice way, honest." 

The small concession seemed to have little impact on him. 

"Sad?" He spat the word, "No one feels sorry for me. People are afraid of me, not sorry for me. I'm William the Bloody, the scourge of Western Europe." 

"But you're lonely." She noted quietly. The statement hit him across the face like a slap, "I know how you feel. Ever since Oz left, I feel lost, like there's no one out there for me. He KNEW me. A-A lot of times I never even had to say anything to him. He just knew." She drew in a long breath and blew it out slowly. She had finally gotten used to the idea of Oz being gone, but if she let herself think too much about it, the hurt was bound to resurface. 

Spike's face softened almost imperceptibly and then he folded his arms across his chest, "Yeah, well me and Dru were forever. Literally. Our love transcended life AND death." 

"Then how could she hurt you so much?" Willow asked, the same as she had asked herself after Oz had abandoned her. She knew he'd had his reasons, righteous, noble reasons, but it still hadn't made her feel any better. She rose and instinctively touched her hand to his arm in an offer of comfort. 

"What the Hell do you know?!" he ripped his arm away from her, but this time she didn't shrink back. 

His dark eyes glittered with volatile emotion, seething in their depths. Willow held his gaze, unafraid of the rage and hurt that resided there. Even without the implant, she doubted she would have been worried. 

She noted how different he was from Oz, so wild and passionate. Maybe that's what had scared Oz so much about the wolf inside him. The loss of control, the frenzy. He had called it a darkness, but now she wondered if that was really what it had been. Passion could be frightening too and maybe he just wasn't able to handle that. 

"You know, Red, you've been hounding me for weeks now, ever since I got my teeth pulled." Spike shouted, standing just inches in front of her, looking down with his fiery eyes, "Always gettin' under my skin." He was trembling now and the animal blood he'd ingested was rushing to his face, turning it pink, "You're not so smart." He stepped a half step closer so that they were nearly nose to nose, "You think I don't notice when you wear that nice perfume, the one that smells like honeysuckles. Or when you suck in your bottom lip when you're worried. Oh, I've got your number. You can't fool me, I'm too bloody smart!" 

He was rambling, she realized, the same way that she herself did whenever she was flustered. She couldn't help but feel a little excited, this close to him, knowing what he was and what he would do to her if it weren't for the implant. Danger within safe borders. 

"Screw this!" he snapped, reaching out and snagging her by the arm, "Implant or not, I'm going to bite down on you one way or another." Hauling her in, he went for her throat. 

Willow tensed, expecting to feel the keen pierce of teeth in her flesh, but instead, she felt just his lips smushing against her jugular. A jolt of excitement rushed through her and she felt his jaw trembling against her skin. She wasn't sure whether it was because he had tried to resist the implant or if it was for other reasons. 

"You really piss me off sometimes, Red." He whispered tightly, taking hold of her head in his hands, "I like that." 

When he moved to kiss her, she didn't pull away. Something inside her was reflected in Spike's reckless, untamed spirit and it called to her, demanding that she follow her curiosity. She hardly made a sound as he pushed her up against the wall and squeezed her body against his. She just closed her eyes and let her lips and hands define her universe. 

His skin and lips were cool, but they seemed to ignite a flare of heat within her. She panted heavily through her nose as his lips worked against hers and clutched at the exposed skin of his neck with her palms to vent the burning, to release. 

When he broke away from her, she could see that he was flushed and disoriented. He stared at her dumbly for a moment and then turned for the door, stopping just in the doorway with his back to her. Willow straightened her sweater and attempted to calm her frantic breathing, waiting for him to say something. 

"You're a strange little bird, that's for sure." he said with a crooked smirk, "Muckin' around with an old dead chap like me. But you're alright. You've got real fire in you. I'll see you around." 

He left as quickly and silently as he had come, slipping down the hallway with the stealth of a cat. 

Willow touched her fingers softly to her lips and swallowed anxiously wondering what had just happened. Spike. Spike had kissed her and she had liked it. The kiss had been nothing like when she had kissed Oz. Not tender or even really kind. But it had been purely passionate, filled with enough emotion to set her head swimming. She felt it now and understood what Spike had said to her. Her heart was pounding like a hammer in her chest and her skin was hot. Like fire. 


End file.
